


Worth the Wait

by torino10154



Series: Hope Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-02
Updated: 2011-07-02
Packaged: 2017-10-20 23:00:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/218027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torino10154/pseuds/torino10154





	Worth the Wait

**Author's Note:**

  * For [awrence](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=awrence).



**Title:** Worth the Wait  
 **Pairing:** Severus/Harry  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Word Count:** ~3100  
 **Content:** Oral sex  
 **Disclaimer:** Not mine. They belong to JKR.  
 **A/N:** Thank you to [](http://gryffindorj.insanejournal.com/profile)[**gryffindorj**](http://gryffindorj.insanejournal.com/) and [](http://jadzialove.insanejournal.com/profile)[**jadzialove**](http://jadzialove.insanejournal.com/) for the feedback and beta. ♥ Any mistakes that remain are entirely my own. Also thanks to [](http://accioslash.insanejournal.com/profile)[**accioslash**](http://accioslash.insanejournal.com/) for her last minute contributions. *smooch* Written for [](http://awrence.insanejournal.com/profile)[**awrence**](http://awrence.insanejournal.com/) who won my services from [](http://www.insanejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=help_japan)[**help_japan**](http://www.insanejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=help_japan) and requested a sequel to my Snarry-a-Thon10 fic [Hope Springs Eternal](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/snape_potter/420885.html). Although this can be read as a stand alone piece, I do believe it will make more sense if one has read the original.

Severus ties his hair back and looks at himself in the mirror.

"Ridiculous," he mutters under his breath, pulling the leather tie from his hair, the salt and pepper strands falling forward to hide his face. It is utterly absurd for a man his age to be worrying about how he looks.

 _It's Harry, you know you want to look your best for him_ , his mind supplies and he once again ties his hair back.

"You look positively _dashing_ , dearie," the mirror says and Severus groans and pulls the tie out again. He'll go as himself not some dandified version. It won't matter in the slightest how he's fixed his hair if Harry actually were interested in him.

If only.

Severus uses his fingers to comb through and smooth his hair down after all the fussing he's done, it's a little untidy. Selecting black wool trousers, a crisp, white shirt and black waistcoat, Severus dresses, his stomach in knots.

They have some business to discuss, what with Albus leaving Hogwarts in two short weeks. Severus has arranged a monetary gift for his godson and they need to discuss the details before he signs the papers at Gringotts to transfer the funds into Albus's vault.

Severus has taught him everything he knows and Albus absorbed it all like a sponge - everything legal, at any rate. Perhaps after he leaves Hogwarts they can experiment a little with a few borderline legal potions. Albus already has plans to apprentice to the current Potions Master at the apothecary in Diagon Alley, courtesy of Severus's recommendation. A little extra tutoring should go a long way. Perhaps Albus will become one of the youngest Potions Masters in Britain just as Severus had.

Something doesn't feel right, though. He has a sense of foreboding, like a man walking to the gallows.

Severus's wand vibrates letting him know he needs to leave in five minutes if he's to arrive promptly at seven o'clock. Heading down the stairs, he stops in the kitchen for a bottle of red wine and then pulls on his cloak before Disapparating silently, a trick he never tires of performing, even in the privacy of his own home. A crack of Apparition is for braggarts and children.

Severus strides up the walk and raps precisely twice on the door. The door opens almost instantly, as if Harry were waiting for his arrival, which is quite silly of course. He must have been passing by.

"Severus, come in," Harry says and steps back to allow Severus to pass. "Here, I'll take your cloak." Severus feels Harry's hands at his shoulders as he slips it off and swallows reflexively.

It's going to be a long and torturous evening.

How would those hands feel against his bare skin, touching him intimately? Severus's libido is still quite strong for a wizard approaching seventy. He still awakes, as always, with an erection and has no trouble masturbating as often as he likes. He'd like to believe he could keep Harry well satisfied should he be given the chance.

Although there _is_ a potion for everything, should he need to keep up with a younger man.

Severus finally gets a good look at Harry when he hands over the bottle of wine. "I thought perhaps this would be a nice accompaniment to supper."

He's wearing a white button down shirt with a subtle navy check pattern and khaki trousers, both perfectly fitted and begging Severus to take them off.

Harry takes the bottle—their fingers brushing, electricity shooting up Severus's spine—and grins. "Always perfect. I've made a roast, potatoes and vegetables. Nothing special really." He blushes slightly, and Severus has to keep his hand from reaching out and touching the soft pink of his cheek. "Care for a drink?"

"That would be nice." Severus follows Harry into the sitting room, taking in every detail of the way he walks. The length of his stride, the swing of his arms.

The utter perfection that is his backside.

The wall sconces glow with warm light, the table is set for two. It almost seems romantic, the way Severus would have welcomed Harry into _his_ home. Pouring two short glasses of red liquid, Harry hands one to Severus.

"Bitters," he says unnecessarily and Severus closes his eyes and inhales the fragrant herbed drink. He takes a sip, the flavour strong on his tongue.

"When did you become so worldly?" he asks then takes another sip.

Harry smiles and Severus feels his heart clench. Would that each and every one of those smiles was directed toward him.

"Thirty years as an Auror teaches a man a few things." Harry finishes his drink and takes Severus's glass after he does as well. "Sit. I'll bring out supper."

Severus takes the chair in front of him, the table seemingly shrunk compared to the other times he's dined with the Potters. He places a hand on the table and confirms the magic that has made the table smaller, more intimate. Large enough for only two.

When the door from the kitchen swings open, Harry is preceded by several trays, each smelling more delicious than the last. It seems he's outdone himself and Severus can't help but think it feels like his last supper, as if Harry is trying to soften the blow. Perhaps now Albus has grown, Severus's presence is no longer needed.

They correspond frequently, Harry's tone never changing. Severus has always read more into his words than Harry could possibly be suggesting, hanging on each mention that they should get together for supper or that Harry needs Severus's advice about any myriad of subjects.

"You're awfully quiet tonight, Severus," Harry says as he sits down across the table. "Something on your mind?"

 _You,_ Severus imagines himself replying, the look of happiness on Harry's face blinding him.

"Nothing special," he replies instead, scooping up a large portion of vegetables and putting it on his plate. He holds the spoon and Harry lifts his plate.

"I should be serving you. You're my guest." Harry stands and moves closer, better able to cut a slice of roast and set it on Severus's plate. His mouth is watering both from the food and from Harry's scent. What he wouldn't do to bury his face against Harry's neck, lick the sweat from his skin.

"Thank you." Sure enough, the roast melts in his mouth and it's all he can do not to moan. He takes another bite, chewing slowly, savouring the taste.

"Is it all right?" Harry asks, looking concerned and Severus realises he thinks Severus doesn't like it.

"It's delicious." That seems to satisfy Harry as he nods and begins to eat his own supper. The rest of the meal passes in companionable silence only broken occasionally as Severus never really was one for small talk and Harry seems…preoccupied.

Harry stands after they both clean their plates of second helpings of everything. "I'll just get these cleaned up and join you in the sitting room in a moment." He hesitates before continuing, "There is something I wanted to talk to you about." Severus watches him as he walks into the kitchen.

Well. That's that then.

Severus knows he'd best face disappointment head on. He can always lick his wounds in private. That's what he's always done.

As he walks down the corridor he notices all the details of the house: the corner where the wallpaper is just starting to peel, the candle burned down to the nub near the cloak rack, the spot in the carpet James never explained adequately and no one could get out completely.

He'd been welcomed into this home for nearly twenty years, even if it was usually only on special occasions.

Finally he reaches the sitting room and picks out his spot in the corner of the sofa, body angled in such a way as to face Harry wherever he chose to sit. He concentrates on keeping his breathing calm, prevent his pulse from racing.

Perhaps he's making more of this than it is. Harry has come to him for advice from time to time.

The grandfather clock in the corner strikes nine just as Harry walks into the room. He waves his wand and the candles dim, the fire burning brightly in the hearth. Shockingly, Harry sits down beside him, arm over the back of the sofa, his full attention on Severus.

Wanting to get this over with, he asks, "You wanted to speak with me?"

Harry clears his throat, and Severus looks back up at him, bracing himself for whatever Harry has to say.

"I've never been good with words," Harry says softly. "More of an action person, really."

"Once you overcame your infernal need to jump into any situation without considering the consequences," Severus adds as Harry laughs nervously.

"I'm not sure I've been completely cured of that." Severus furrows his brow, puzzled. He tries to look into Harry's eyes, but Harry looks away suddenly, then mumbles under his breath something that sounds, nonsensically, like, "Head Auror, for Christ's sake."

"Perhaps you'd like to get to the point," Severus says, more sharply than he intended, but his stomach is already tied up in knots with dread.

"Maybe," Harry begins as he finally meets Severus's eyes again. "Maybe I can show you." Time comes to a standstill as Severus sees Harry moving closer. He's paralyzed as Harry's hands cup Severus's face, his eyes flutter shut as Harry's lips press against his own.

 _Oh_ , Severus's normally quick mind supplies uselessly as his entire body melts into this gentlest of kisses. He knows he's not breathing, he can't be, this can't be real. He refuses to open his eyes, he doesn't want this dream to end.

"Severus?" He can feel Harry's thumbs brushing his cheeks softly, hopes that when he opens his eyes he won't find himself home, alone in his bed.

When he finally—finally—opens them, a pair of beautiful green ones stare back at him and he can only choke out, "Why?"

Harry smiles shyly, eyes crinkling around the edges, lips curling just so. "You've always been there for me." Severus opens his mouth to speak, to say that's the worst reason in the world, but Harry places a finger over his lips and shushes him.

"I know you care about me, and don't try to deny it now because you never would have let me…if you didn't." Severus closes his eyes for a moment, for Harry is correct. When he opens them again, Harry continues. "I've been married, I've had my children—beautiful, each one. I've lost my wife.

"But there is someone in my life who has been a mentor to me and my son, a friend and confidant. Someone who I recently realised could be so much more."

One of Harry's hands grasps Severus's, lacing their fingers together. Severus stares at them, still unable to process what's happening. Maybe there was something in the wine….

Harry guffaws and Severus realises he's spoken aloud. "There was nothing in the wine."

"As if you'd tell me," Severus harrumphs. Reaching his free hand to Severus's nape, Harry pulls him forward until their lips are a hairsbreadth apart.

"Wouldn't you be able to taste it?" he says and parts his lips in invitation, and even in his dreamlike state Severus is not about to refuse. He slips his tongue into Harry's mouth, tasting wine, beef, and the unadulterated sweetness that is all Harry. Someone moans, Harry's fingers tighten in his hair, and the kiss becomes heated, Severus devouring Harry's lips and tongue, pulling him closer, until Harry is half sprawled across his body.

Severus grips Harry's shirt, clutching him tight, praying he'll never be forced to let him go. The warm weight of Harry's body against his own is far more than he'd dare hope for when he allowed himself to dream that there was the smallest chance.

"Wait," Harry finally says, panting roughly, his lips red. "I'm nearly fifty years old, and the first time we do this I insist we use a bed."

He finds himself speechless, the idea that Harry wants to make—have sex with him, nearly makes him come then and there.

"Are you sure, Harry?" Severus somehow manages to get out. Harry pulls back and stands, holding his hand out. Severus can see the evidence that Harry is at the very least aroused and when he stands he pulls Harry flush to him. "You must be sure," he whispers into Harry's ear wondering if his desperation is obvious, if Harry knows he would shatter were Harry to take this away from him now.

"Let me show you how sure I am," Harry replies, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and turns, pulling Severus toward the staircase. They walk together in silence, up two flights and down a long corridor. Severus looks around and sees Muggle photos of the children, even one of the whole family, but nothing magical.

Nothing of just Harry and his _wife_.

There is a fire burning low in the grate, and when Severus next looks at Harry, he sees he's already started undressing.

"Allow me," Severus says striding forward. Harry might still have second thoughts in the morning, so Severus plans to enjoy every moment. Button by button, he reveals pale flesh, dark hair forming a cross on his chest. When he reaches the final button, Severus drops to his knees to undo Harry's buckle, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder as he pulls down the zipper.

Between them, they remove Harry's shoes, socks and then trousers. Harry's slips his fingers into the waistband of his pants, but Severus shakes his head.

"Not yet." Harry returns the favour and helps Severus out of his clothes, going a step further and placing kisses along Severus's chest and stomach as he undresses him. When they are both naked, save their pants, Harry pulls Severus to his bed.

Severus uses his hands and lips over every inch of Harry's body, worshipping silently the body he adores, scars and all. No longer a young man, Harry is still quite fit, only the slight softness of his belly suggesting he's anything but perfect. Severus loves him for each of his imperfections, for each sign of his age.

When Severus mouths Harry's cock through his pants, the subsequent moan resounds through the air and he can no longer resist.

Sitting up, he looks at Harry, who nods and mouths a single word: "Yes". Severus reaches for the waistband and slowly draws them down, Harry lifting his hips to help.

Harry's cock is thick, the purple head peeking out from his foreskin, his bollocks hanging heavy beneath. Severus reaches for the length with one hand, his other cradling Harry's sac delicately, and leans forward to take him into his mouth.

"Oh, fuck," Harry gasps, his fingers immediately tangling in Severus's hair. Severus licks around the head, rolls the foreskin back, the salty, musky taste driving him mad. One thing about age was at least Harry wasn't likely to come prematurely, because Severus feels like he could lavish attention on Harry for hours.

He looks up and sees Harry looking at him with hooded eyes, a light sheen of sweat glistening across his chest. Eyes locked with Harry's, he presses lightly against Harry perineum and Harry bucks his hips suddenly, forcing himself into Severus's throat.

"Sorry, sorry," Harry mumbles as he pulls back, but Severus relaxes his throat and bobs his head, taking Harry to the root before sliding back up again, his tongue swirling around the head.

After several more minutes, Severus begins moving his hand faster, sucking harder, Harry rocking his hips, carding his fingers in Severus's hair.

"Please…." Severus feels Harry's bollocks drawing up, knows he's going to come. He presses his face into the curls of hair at the base of Harry's cock and pushes just his fingertip into Harry's arse before his mouth is full of hot, salty come, spurt after spurt, until Harry collapses bonelessly against the bed, and Severus licks his softening cock clean.

He rests his head against Harry's thigh, needing a moment to catch his breath himself.

"C'mere," Harry murmurs, his hands pulling at Severus, who crawls up his body and kisses him silent. Harry rolls him, and Severus allows it as now Harry is sitting on his cock. "Want to fuck me?"

Severus's hips thrust of their own accord, but he shakes his head. He knows that even with his excellent stamina, he'll never last. He's far too excited at this point in the proceedings. The first time he's inside Harry, he knows he'll want to stay there forever.

"Suck me," he replies hoarsely, wanting to feel Harry's mouth on him more than he wants to breathe, and it's Harry's turn to slither down his body. Harry's hand settles on his groin, rubbing and squeezing before pulling his pants down and bunching them beneath his balls. Harry grips the base of his cock and slowly lowers his head.

Severus's hands claw the sheets as Harry laps at his slit, his hand working his length. He takes just the head into his mouth, and Severus moans with abandon. How long he's waited for this!

Harry seems to take that as encouragement and begins sucking harder, sliding up and down Severus's length. Severus knows he's going to embarrass himself in moments, but watching Harry— _his_ Harry—pleasuring him is too much.

"Harry, I'm going—" he starts but Harry redoubles his effort, speeding his hand and taking him as deep as he can. His entire body goes stiff as his bollocks draw up and he manages to find Harry's head with his hand as he explodes down his throat. Exhaling deeply, he shuts his eyes for a moment.

"Sorry," Harry says as he curls up beside Severus and presses a very salty kiss to his lips. "First time for everything."

"What you lack in experience, you made up for in enthusiasm," Severus mumbles, feeling somewhat drowsy. He can't recall the last time he fell asleep in his lover's bed. Or even the last time he had that. A lover.

"I think I'll take that as a compliment," Harry replies and then yawns. His arm settles comfortably across Severus's chest, his breath evening out as he falls into a post-coital slumber.

Severus wraps his arm tighter around Harry's body and presses a kiss into the mop of mostly black hair, the few silver strands shining in the firelight.

He's been waiting a long time to hold Harry in his arms and he's not about to let him go.

  


_"Patience is the art of hoping."_

~ Luc de Clapiers, marquis de Vauvenargues


End file.
